


False Alarms

by al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Feelings Realization, I never thought I'd write a fic with a Jessica Simpson reference but here we are, M/M, Songfic, Sort Of, lots of fluff and introspection, song: false alarms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 16:50:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons/pseuds/al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons
Summary: Patrick Brewer ran away from his old life in search of something. He didn't expect to find it in Schitt's Creek.





	False Alarms

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out way longer than I meant it to, and I was going to post it in separate chapters but just......didn't want to. 
> 
> This is kinda-sorta a songfic, based on False Alarms by Noah Reid. The lyrics in this don’t match the ones I found online for False Alarms, but after listening to the song a million times I’m almost certain my version is correct and the internet is wrong. Like the line that says “cut a rug”, makes more sense to me than what’s on the internet because cutting a rug= another term for dancing. etc. 
> 
> Also, some of this is non-canon, but not enough so that I’d say it’s ~AU. 
> 
> For example, some events from s02e13 take place after s03e08; i.e. Patrick and David meet at Ray’s, then they are all at Mutt’s party where Jake and David hook up. Also the dialog in scenes that took place in the show has been changed for Reasons.
> 
> This hasn't been beta'd and the formatting is kind of fucked but it is what it is at this point. 
> 
> K thanks byeee

> _Don't know how it happened but I’m all shook up_  
>  _Cause I can see you dance with another man and, it isn’t in my hands_  
>  _You got to know you can cut a rug_  
>  _Now I’m trying to figure out where to stand_

Patrick really didn’t know what he was doing here, other than the fact that he was new in town and this was the closest thing to a social event he could find on a Friday night. Ray had introduced him to Mutt at the office, and Mutt had mentioned he was having a party at his barn, and Ray interjected that Patrick had no plans and he should go. So here he was. Nursing a beer, surveying the crowd of people who all seemed to know everyone except for him.

It was _something_ , he supposed; better than nothing to fill the interminable hours between closing up the office at Ray’s and stumbling into a fitful sleep. Sleep hadn’t come easy to him in months, and it was starting to wear on him.

As it often did, his mind started to wander back to Rachel as he looked across the barn, seeing the bodies swaying to the music that was just a touch too loud. Something had always been missing with her, and he had left in order to find it.

He doubted he’d find it here, in Schitt’s Creek, but it was worth a try. He surveyed the options. The room had plenty of beautiful women, aesthetically speaking. But just like with Rachel, there was a lack of any real excitement or attraction to them. Patrick was beginning to wonder if there was something broken inside of him; his mind shied away from too much introspection, alarm bells ringing every time his thoughts creeped closer to the reasons why it never worked with her, or anyone else. 

A familiar voice interrupted Patrick’s self-flagellatory thoughts, complaining about a cocktail shaker and room-temperature vodka. 

Patrick turned, and with a jolt of recognition, saw David “it’s a general store but also a very specific store” Rose talking to a bearded, brooding man lounging at the bar. They seemed to be having a conversation about fishy ice cubes.Warmth spread up the back of Patrick’s neck. He was surprised to realize he was happy to see David; they had only met briefly and it hadn’t exactly gone smoothly. He thought about going to talk to him, but didn’t want to interrupt; David seemed quite invested in his conversation with this tall, handsome stranger, whom he’d heard introduce himself as Jake.

(Patrick chose not to examine too closely that the word ‘handsome’ had crossed his mind.)

And besides, he had gotten the vibe that David wasn’t really fond of him, anyway. He’d probably been a little harsh with him earlier, telling him to come back when he knew what he wanted to do with his business. He hadn’t _meant_ it that way, of course. He actually found David’s indecisiveness to be kind of endearing. Like a baby deer trying to find it’s feet for the first time.

Patrick decided against initiating a conversation, but couldn’t stop watching them. David was clearly into this guy, and didn’t even seem to notice Patrick standing a few feet away. _Which- why would he?_

Patrick’s stomach simmered uncomfortably. He tried to chalk it up to the cheap IPA he’d been trying to choke down for the past hour, but somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, buried beneath layers of self-doubt and insecurity and that deafening alarm, he knew that wasn’t it.

His mood soured by the second, watching the two of them. He decided the night was officially a bust when the pair made their way to the center of the room, David’s well-coifed head thrown back in laughter as the handsome stranger led him onto the dance floor. Patrick found himself wondering what it would be like to be the one to make David Rose laugh like that. He knocked back the rest of his beer, stomach churning for reasons he couldn’t- or wouldn’t- understand, and went home. 

He dreamed about him that night.

It wasn’t a particularly dirty dream; Patrick could only recall bits and pieces, and they all seemed fairly tame. His thumb smoothed over a dark eyebrow. David’s hand pressed into the small of his back. Insignificant touches. And yet, he woke up sweating, heart pounding, sheets humid and twisted around him.

* * *

> _I don't know a lot, but I tell you what_  
>  _I used to be immune to you but I’m not anymore_  
>  _Well you’re in my head_  
>  _And I can try to lie, I can try to bluff_  
>  _Or I can try to dance with you instead_

The following week, Patrick found himself sitting in his car outside of the old general store. 

He told himself not to do it.He could mail the business license to David. Or have Ray drop it off. There was no reason -none at all-that Patrick had to hand-deliver it to the store, and really, he shouldn’t.

But next thing he knew, he was carefully replacing the back of the silver frame that he’d picked out for it, checking his teeth in his rearview mirror, smoothing his hair, and walking up to what would soon turn into Rose Apothecary.

Again, he didn’t want to think too hard about what all this meant. Why he’d spent half an hour picking out a shirt to wear today. Why he’d agonized over a frame, knowing enough by now about David Rose to know that aesthetics were everything to him. 

He was just another client of Ray’s. This shouldn’t be a big deal.

And yet.

He tried not to get too panicky as David’s sister cornered him into sampling all sorts of products. He didn’t understand why he wanted to yell, “this isn’t what it looks like,” when David came out of the back room to find Alexis accosting him with a Himalayan cat hair scarf.He didn’t know why he felt a small flutter of hope when David seemed irritated at the amount of attention Patrick was getting from her. Whatever reason it was, Patrick found himself volunteering to help out, an offer that Alexis seemed all too eager to accept before she got bored and disappeared.

Patrick caught himself watching David throughout the day, cataloguing details to revisit later. The thick rings on his right hand that he fidgeted with while lost in thought. The twist of his mouth when he was trying not to smile at something. The alarms in Patrick’s head went off again as he pictured himself placing his lips in the corner of David’s mouth, his fingers intertwined with those rings. He did his best to ignore them. 

Bits of their conversations replayed themselves over and over again that night as Patrick lay awake. He’d managed to make David laugh- really laugh- once. Granted, it had been at his own expense, having innocently asked if the Body Butters they were unpacking were edible and, if so, what purpose could that serve, and most importantly, who would use something like that. David almost snorted, and a genuine, head-thrown-back, crinkly-eyed laugh burst forth.

Patrick flushed, thrilled to finally have been responsible for making David Rose laugh. David must have mistaken his pleasure for embarrassment, however; the now-familiar twist of his mouth made an appearance as David quickly tried to reign in his amusement.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. You just asked that so innocently, you poor thing.This is just a good, high-quality moisturizer, and it’s thicker than lotion, hence the ‘butter’. But to answer your question, Jessica Simpson _did_ have a line of edible cosmetic products in the early 2000s. It was supposed to be sexy, you know, spice things up for…” he trailed off, and Patrick detected a slight flush creeping over the collar of David’s sweater as he cleared his throat. “Anyway, even straight people weren’t desperate enough to use products like “Deliciously Kissable Belly Button Love Potion” and the line flopped.”

Patrick let out a low whistle, smiling. “Deliciously Kissable Belly Button Love Potion? That’s rough.”

“I know!” David’s impressive eyebrows shot upwards, emphasizing how awful it was. “Horrifying.”

Patrick smiled into his pillow at the memory, replaying the beautiful, delicious sound of that laugh over and over again until he fell asleep. 

* * *

> _So what would you pick if you had to choose_  
>  _Between taking a risk and playing safe_  
>  _Cause I will say I don't wanna play if I’m gonna lose_  
>  _But I don’t wanna lose cause I didn't play_

Patrick woke up the next morning, sore but well-rested from the first decent night’s sleep he’d had in months. He wasn’t sure if he was just that exhausted by all the moving and unpacking he’d helped David with, or if his soul was finally at ease having made up his mind about something.

He was going to ask David if he could invest in his business.

He knew this could be disastrous. David could laugh in his face or tell him he wasn’t interested. Worse, if David said no, then Patrick would have absolutely no reason to hang around anymore, and he wasn’t sure he could cope with that. But it was a risk he was willing to take, because the only other option was continuing down whatever boring, safe path his life was currently on. The business was a good idea, and seemed like a viable option for Schitt’s Creek. And the fact that he could also use this as an opportunity to get to know David Rose didn’t hurt, either. _Careful,_ the alarm bells warned. _Rough waters ahead. Dangerous territory._ Patrick ignored them. 

David seemed surprised when Patrick showed up again at the store.

“Um…hi..,” he glanced up at him while fiddling with the scanner that he was trying- and failing- to install on the register. “Alexis isn’t here, so…”

Patrick’s heart thudded, and again he found himself feeling panicked - _it’s not like that-_ and so he quickly clarified. 

“No, David, I’m not….I’m not here for your sister.”

That got David’s attention, and he finally turned to face him.

“Okay, then…what are you doing here?” He didn’t say it unkindly; in fact, he said it in a way that made Patrick believe he was trying very hard to sound casual.

Patrick took a deep breath, and launched into the soliloquy he’d practiced over and over and over again.And when we was done, David nodded in agreement, and Patrick sighed in relief. They would be partners, at least in once sense.

The next few weeks saw them fall into a comfortable routine. They would work in tandem, gently bickering over details, organizing invoices, consulting spreadsheets. David would gently tease Patrick about his lack of style, and Patrick would listen as David talked endlessly, complaining about his parents and waxing poetic about something called “Goop”. Patrick was more pleased than he’d like to admit when he overheard David tell Alexis that he and Jake had gone their separate ways. Sleep found Patrick much more easily these days.

Early one morning, the day before their semi-firm opening, Patrick was getting ready to leave for the store when he received a text from David, which alarmed him. David was not an early riser- Patrick would usually be at the store for an hour before David would roll in. 

> **Brewer- meet me at the store when you can.**

This did not sooth Patrick’s nerves. (He did, however, get a small thrill from David calling him ‘Brewer.’)

A moment later, his phone chirped again. 

> **With coffee.**

And again- 

> **And maybe a scone. Or two.**

Despite his anxiety at this divergence from their routine, Patrick smiled to himself. No matter what might be wrong, David’s thoughts never strayed far from his next meal.

Twenty minutes later, Patrick walked towards the store from the cafe, the fresh scones and coffees in his hand. He could see David waiting outside, hands on his hips, his back turned towards the street. Patrick paused for a moment, taking in the scene.David standing proudly in front of Rose Apothecary- something they’d built together. The sight of it warmed him, like the light from the storefront seemed to warm the chilly morning air.

As if he could feel Patrick’s eyes on him, David turned suddenly, and Patrick continued towards him.

“Hi,” David said softly, taking his coffee and smiling. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were bright.

“Good morning. You’re up early.”

“Late, actually. I haven’t slept. I was too nervous about tomorrow, and I just wanted to get a few things done, and I kind of ended up staying here all night…”

“Jesus, David. Are you insane? We’re opening tomorrow, you need your rest.” 

David’s expression softened, that secretive smile gracing his features once again. Patrick reveled in it. 

“I know. But…I want to show you something.Come inside.”

Curious, Patrick followed him inside, walking through the doors like he had a thousand times before, and stopped dead in his tracks.

The store was ready, and it looked amazing. No boxes stacked haphazardly, paint cans scattered across surfaces. No ladders, no bubble wrap abandoned in the middle of the floor. Everything in its place, the soft lighting creating a warm glow across the glossy surfaces. It was like he was truly seeing it for the first time. 

Patrick walked slowly around the store in silence, taking it all in, aware that David was closely watching him from where he’d sat himself, cross-legged on the counter next to the register. He viewed everything with a renewed appreciation for David’s eye for detail, running his hands down the counters, gently rubbing the gauzy material of some scarves between his fingers. Glancing back at David occasionally, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. They’d built this place together. 

Finally, he came to a halt, leaning against the counter next to David, close enough to bump his hip against David’s knee. David looked down at him from his perch and laid his hand on his shoulder. Patrick’s heart sped up, like even that tiny sliver of contact was too much for it to handle. He was overwhelmed, suddenly, and barely resisted the urge to lean up and kiss David Rose right on his ridiculous mouth. But then he blinked, and the moment passed. 

“David,” he breathed. “This… it’s incredible. But you could have called me, I would have helped.”

“I know. But… I wanted to surprise you.” 

“I don’t know what to say.”

David laughed softly, little more than a puff of air passing through his nose. He looked away,squeezing Patrick’s shoulder lightly, once, before dropping his hand.

“You can say ‘thank you’ for _not_ calling you while I was here panicking at three in the morning. I was sweaty. It was not a good look for me.”

 _I’m sure you looked fine, David,_ is what Patrick wanted to say. _Any look is a good look for you._

Instead, what he said was, “Well, it wouldn’t be a good look for the store to have you falling asleep behind the register on opening day. You should go home. I’ll make sure everything is taken care of here. Not that there’s anything left to do, but…”

David sighed, dramatically throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut

“Oh, my God, thank you. I was hoping you would say that but I didn’t want to ask.”He hopped off the counter, plucked a scone from the bag, and headed towards the door.

“David,” Patrick called after him. He just wanted one more look at him before he left. David turned back to him, scone already hanging out of his mouth. “See you tomorrow.”

* * *

> _And I tell you something that you didn't know_  
>  _I could get used to having you around_  
>  _Baby in my arms_  
>  _How does the old expression go_  
>  _It's something about setting off false alarms_

The soft opening was a bigger success than they could have hoped for. They completely sold out of a few items, and even some of the riskier, high-end products had some buyers.David locked the doors, the last customer finally having left, as Patrick poured them each a glass of wine. David was absolutely glowing, and Patrick had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him even more so than usual. 

As they discussed the success of opening day, settling into their effortless back-and-forth, Patrick could no longer fight the urge. This happy David- this David that was as close to ‘effervescent’ as David would ever be- was utterly irresistible. Patrick set his glass down and stepped forward, heart in his throat as he reached out to give David a hug. 

“Congratulations, man,” he said softly.

“Congratulations to you.” Patrick was pleasantly surprised at how easily David had stepped into his arms. He was not an overtly affectionate creature, from what Patrick had seen.But this may be the version of David he liked most.

He got glimpses of this David in their quieter moments together. Moments when David dropped his guard, ever so slightly. Moments when he allowed himself to be happy, and proud of himself, and not afraid to show genuine human emotion. The guarded, prickly stranger he had met so many weeks ago had softened, bit by bit, removing his armor to expose his soft and vulnerable side. Patrick knew it was a privilege to be witness to it.

The hug lingered for a moment, and Patrick could feel his heart pounding, and was certain David must be able to feel it, too. And then David was squeezing him tighter, and that alarm was going off inside of Patrick’s head, so much contact and warmth between them, and David was _rubbing his back_ and oh, my _God_ what was happening—

And then the lights flickered.Patrick silently cursed his amateur wiring skills, lingering in the hug a moment longer before stepping away. 

He didn’t want to allow himself to imagine what would have happened if those lights- those _damn_ lights- hadn’t flickered. How easy it would have been to let his arms slide from David’s back to his waist and pull him in for a kiss. What it would be like to rest his hand on David’s face, smoothing a thumb over his eyebrow. David’s hands pressed at the small of his back, holding him close, like that mostly-forgotten dream from all those months ago. Damn those lights.

* * *

> _But I wanna fall in love with you_  
>  _I wanna fall in love with you, with you_  
>  _But I don't wanna fall in love with you_  
>  _If I’m going to fall apart with you_  
>  _With you, with you, with you…_

Patrick knew he was in deep. After that hug on opening night, he found himself making excuses to make physical contact with David as often as he could. A hand on his back as he passed behind him, instead of walking around the counter the other way. Picking lint from the shoulder of his sweater. Once, Patrick even told David he had a loose eyelash on his cheek, just so he could use his thumb to brush the imaginary lash away.

David never shied away from these small touches, and sometimes initiated them on his own- little things like reaching up to smooth Patrick’s collar before walking into a meeting with a vendor.Sometimes standing closer than seemed necessary as they restocked, elbows bumping, hands brushing as they reached for product at the same time.More than once he had ‘gotten too much’ when sampling a new lotion, and had taken Patrick’s hands between his own to wipe off the excess.

Something had changed between them that night, but Patrick still couldn’t bring himself to make a move. Risky- it was just too risky. Patrick was getting better at ignoring the warning bells inside his own head, but he couldn’t turn them off entirely. If David didn’t feel the same way- or, even if he did but things didn’t work out- he could potentially lose the one thing he’d grown to care about in this town. So he contented himself with these stolen glances and gentle touches. They would never be what he wanted, but for now, they were enough. 

One Friday morning, David was in an exceptionally foul mood. Patrick had learned, over time, that David would talk when he was ready to, so he left him alone, watching carefully from afar as he spent the morning moodily rearranging items in the store only to return them to their original spots. Sighing more often and more heavily than he usually did. Muttering under his breath. Finally, after overhearing David’s strange interaction with a customer who’d asked for a gift receipt, the puzzle piece finally slid into place in Patrick’s brain.

It was David’s birthday; of course it was David’s birthday. How had he not remembered? He’d filled that date in dozens of times on the incorporation paperwork and grant applications. Patrick’s stomach was gnawing with guilt at having forgotten. He needed a way to make it up to him. 

“So, do you have any big birthday plans tonight? Anything fun? Going out with…anyone?” Patrick tried to keep his voice casual as David looked at him sharply.

“Wha—No, no plans. My entire family forgot about my birthday so I’m going to pop a pill, cry a little and fall asleep early. A wild Friday night.” Patrick knew David well enough to tell when he was using his cutting humor as a defense mechanism.

“David, that sounds….depressing. You can’t spend your 25th birthday all by yourself. You should celebrate finally being old enough to rent a car.”

David narrowed his eyes at him, and Patrick winked. ( _Oh my god, I just fucking winked at him? Smooth, Brewer. Smooth. )_

“Do not _wink_ at me, sir. This day is traumatizing enough.” David’s mouth quirked upwards in the way that let Patrick know he was trying desperately not to smile. “Anyway, what exactly would you propose I do to celebrate my _definitely-not_ 25th birthday? Get drunk at the Wobbly Elm and hope some repressed local is desperate enough to take me home? Watch a Julia Stiles marathon and cry myself to sleep?”

Patrick pressed his lips together, trying desperately not to laugh at the beautiful, overdramatic, pitiable creature in front of him. He couldn’t resist messing with David when he was feeling sorry for himself. 

“Well.. I hate to keep you from Julia Stiles, but I could at least take you for some moderately edible food at the cafe before you do that.”

At this, David did smile, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you have better things to do with your Friday night.”

Patrick nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. I was planning on cruising for some desperate locals at the Wobbly Elm tonight. Friday nights are usually pretty good for it.” 

“Hilarious, Brewer. You slay me. But fine. If you insist that I don’t spend my birthday awash in red wine and self pity..then I accept your dinner invitation.”

Patrick wasn’t really sure what his plan was. He’d saved their first sales receipt months ago, figuring at the time he’d find a special moment to give it to David. He decided his birthday was as good a time as any.But beyond that? The possibilities of the night ahead elated and terrified him. He was having dinner, alone, with David, on his birthday. This somehow carried more weight than the lunchtimes they spent together at the cafe, huddled over business plans. This was more meaningful than the rushed breakfasts they shared in the mornings, wolfing down bites of scones between counting the drawer and restocking shelves. This…felt like a date.

At least, Patrick thought so, until Stevie showed up. Clearly, David was either so oblivious and uninterested that it didn’t occur to him that Patrick wanted tonight to be a date- or worse, he knew, and was doing what he could to rebuff him gently.

Patrick tried to school his expression, but could feel his disappointment written all over his face and excused himself to the restroom. _Get ahold of yourself, Brewer._ Of course David hadn’t thought it was a date. Sure, he’d been more touchy lately and, okay, sometimes it seemed like he was flirting with Patrick. But maybe that was just David’s personality. Having spent almost no time with David outside of work, it wasn’t like he could compare his behavior towards him with how he acted towards others, outside of Stevie and Alexis. It was a mistake on his part to believe David would ever see him as anything other than his straight-laced business partner. The warning bell, that damn internal alarm- it had been right all along.

He took a deep breath, splashed some cool water on his face, and returned to the table. Even if it wasn’t a date, time spent with David was never wasted.

Returning to the booth, he saw the gift he’d put together sitting on the table. He flushed, the idea of David opening something so stupid and sentimental in front of Stevie flooding him with embarrassment. He tried to dissuade him from opening it, but David was nothing if not persistent. 

“It’s really nothing, please don’t get excited.” Patrick watched David’s face carefully for a reaction as he unearthed the frame from the tissue paper. David looked down at the gift, then back up at him, and down at the gift again. For once in his life, David seemed speechless.

Stevie was literally bouncing in the booth beside him. “What is it?”

 _“It’s nothing,”_ Patrick insisted. “I just…framed the receipt from our first sale at the store.”

Finally, David found his voice. 

“Um,” David started, then cleared his throat. “Patrick this… is not ‘nothing.’ So thank you.”

There was a tense moment of silence. Patrick could feel a flush creeping up his neck as Stevie looked from him, to David, back to him. Suddenly, she was excusing herself, saying she forgot she had to be somewhere,and they were left alone, staring at each other across the table. David’s face was unreadable for a moment before it broke into a genuine smile.

“This is a very solid frame, by the way.”David was now carefully re-wrapping the gift, gingerly tucking it back inside the bag. He handled it like it was precious, like it held something more fragile than paper and wood and plexiglass.

Patrick laughed, grateful for the lifeline he’d just been thrown.

“Thank you, I’m learning. I’ve had a great teacher. Like my own personal Yoda.”

David squinted at him, resting his chin in his hand, elbow propped up on the table.

“I don’t watch Star Trek so I don’t know what that means.”

Patrick rolled his eyes.

“Okay, first of all, it’s Star _Wars_. Second of all, it’s a compliment, so you’re welcome.”

“Oh! Compliments and a beautiful gift. It really _is_ my birthday.”

“Yeah, well…Don’t get used to it. But let’s revisit something real quick- you’ve never seen a single Star Wars movie?”

“Um. No. No I have not. But you’ve never seen the 2005 Pride and Prejudice starring Keira Knightley, so, I think we’re even.” 

“I’m not sure those can really be compared to each other, but…”. David shot daggers across the table, and Patrick quickly backtracked. David’s idea of ‘iconic’ cinema differed from the rest of the world, a fact that Patrick was very well aware of at this point. 

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll watch Pride and Prejudice with you, if you agree to watch at least one Star Wars movie with me.”

David’s expression brightened, and he literally clapped his hands together, like a little kid.

“Oh, my God. Patrick Brewer agreeing to watch a Jane Austen movie with me? Are you only saying this because it’s my birthday? Are you going to go back to being mean to me tomorrow?” 

Patrick laughed.

“Absolutely. You have until midnight tonight to get whatever you want from me, because after that? My “being nice to David” fund will be tapped.” _Whatever you want from me, David._ If only Patrick could tell him how sincerely he meant that.David regarded him for a moment, and Patrick thought he detected a flush creeping up his cheeks. His own face felt warm. He was pushing it, and he knew it. 

“Mmmkay, then I’m going to take advantage of this while it lasts. You’re paying for dinner tonight, right? And giving me a ride home? Because it’s like a 10 minute walk to the motel and it’s dark, and I’m wearing all black, and if I get hit by a car then my blood is on your hands. And you’re too soft to survive in prison.”

“I’m not sure that’s how that works, I’m pretty sure I have to be the one driving the car that hits you in order to…never mind. But…yes, I will give you a ride home.”

After they finished their sophisticated meal of mozzarella sticks and Zhampagne, Patrickdrove them towards the motel in silence. It wasn’t tense, or awkward. It was just…nice.

“Well, that was a fun night,” David said emphatically as they pulled up in front of the motel.

 _This is it, Brewer. Tell him how you feel._ It was all there, on the tip of his tongue. _I want to be more than business partners with you, David. I want to kiss you. I want to run my fingers through your hair. I want it all so badly it hurts sometimes._

“I’m really glad I decided to invest in your business, David,” was all he managed.

“That is a really lovely thing to say.”

“And I’m so glad you did, Patrick, because you’ve really helped to turn it into the success that it is,” Patrick finished for him.

“Mmm! A bold claim.”David smiled, his eyes bright as he carefully studied Patrick. Patrick felt completely undone under that stare, aware that his heartbeat was probably audible in the small space of the car.He willed himself to lean forward, telling himself to just go for it, otherwise it was never going to- _oh._

Next thing he knew, David had crossed the invisible line they had carefully drawn, leaned across the car, and kissed him.Patrick felt like he was in a fever dream, warm all over, heartbeat uneven and frenzied, his breath catching in his throat. The inner alarms that had always warned him off from doing this were stunned into silence. His brain went into overdrive, cataloging every sensation and filing it into the back of his mind for later. The cool metal of David’s rings against his jaw, the stubble brushing across his chin, the seatbelt digging into his chest. David’s mouth, wet and warm and soft, gentle and yet insistent against his.

It felt like it lasted forever, and still ended way too quickly.

David pulled back, clearing his throat, his expression unreadable. Patrick knew he should say something, and quickly, but his brain was still misfiring and trying to catch up on what had just happened. 

“Thank you.” _Thank you? You just got Frenched by your hot coworker after months of flirting with him and you say_ _thank you_ _?_

“For what?” David is smiling at him shyly, his brows drawn together in mild confusion. The look he’s giving Patrick is just too much, and he has to look away for a moment to steel himself. 

“Um, I’ve never done that before….With a guy.”Patrick pulled himself together in time to see David’s smile drop from his face, anxiously waiting for further explanation. Patrick could practically hear David’s panic gears turning, and quickly clarified.

“I was getting a little scared that I was gonna let you leave here without us having done that. So thank you. For making that happen for us.” 

David nodded, still watching him carefully, a hint of a smile returning to his face. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he said quietly.

“So why didn’t you?”

David shrugged, looking away, first out the window and then down at his hands, fiddling with his rings.

“I don’t know. I mean…first of all, I thought you were straight. I’ve been down _that_ path too many times to count and it never ended well.And then I figured, even if you weren’t, you probably weren’t into me. And then as we got to know each other I worried about risking one of the few things in this town that mattered to me.” Hearing David echo his own fears was almost too much for Patrick to handle. Had he known that David had been suffering in the same way he was for all these months…well, he would have put a stop to it a lot sooner.

“So why now? Why tonight?” David looked back up at him then, looking thoughtful before responding. 

“Stevie convinced me, while you were in the bathroom, that if your gift was sentimental, that meant it was a date.” A genuine smile- not even attempting to be hidden- lit his face up. “And then you _very suggestively_ said I had until midnight to get whatever I wanted from you for my birthday. And that’s what I wanted.” 

“I was hoping you’d get the hint.”

“You’re not as smooth as you think you are, Brewer.”

“Smooth enough to interest you, though.” 

David shook his head, smiling and looking down, fiddling with this rings again. Patrick never wanted this night to end, couldn’t even really believe it was happening in the first place. He couldn’t believe that he had managed to turn David Rose into this nervous, fidgety creature in front of him. He reached over, placing a hand over David’s to quiet it. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, and David looked up at him. “Happy birthday, David.” He leaned over and kissed him, gently at first, still testing the waters to see if this was okay. David’s enthusiastic response told him it was more than okay.

Patrick felt as if his nerve endings were on fire. An hour ago, he’d been close to having a meltdown in the bathroom because he thought David didn’t feel the same way, and now they were making out in his car.

Everything leading up to this moment flashed through his mind. The look on Rachel’s face when he told her he was leaving. Shaking David’s hand for the first time that day at Ray’s. Seeing David dancing with Jake at that party all those months ago and knowing, deep down, that he wished it were him instead. All the late nights at the store, circling closer and closer, building each other up and breaking down the barriers between them. 

After years of confusion and self-doubt, months of pining and wondering, Patrick had finally found what he was looking for.


End file.
